


Going to the Chapel

by wonthetrade



Series: and to change my prince often [3]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Multi, Weddings, badass lady friendships, ice cream and hilarity, upending our own canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-08 08:59:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7751416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonthetrade/pseuds/wonthetrade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where half the NHL plans Ryan, Taylor and Jordan’s wedding. And no one is surprised.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going to the Chapel

**Author's Note:**

> So listen. This… screws up GB canon (which we use very loosely). BUT ALSO LISTEN: kidline wedding. And the fact that this bloody monster wasn’t supposed to turn into the most wonderful series either. So, we are super unapologetic about screwing up our own universe canon in this minor respect. Awesome? Awesome. 
> 
> Second, this fic takes place essentially over the course of the 2015-2016 season. Which is relevant information when it comes to keeping straight which of the GB are in relationships and which aren’t. 
> 
> Third, due to the myriad of trades that have sent our babies into different conferences come on NHL honestly we have done the Steph thing and shifted most of the trades/signings to summer 2017. Minimizes damage to all canons involved. 
> 
> Glad we had this talk. 
> 
> As always, if you got here by googling someone you know, trust us, you want to close out of this window right about now.

**Tyler**

Ryan texts her a picture of a ring on her finger. It takes Tyler a beat, then two, before she flings herself off her couch. It’s embarrassing, but no one’s there to see the circle she runs around her living room or hear the hysterical explosion that follows. Cash and Marshall bark at her heels, but she ignores them in favour of hitting dial. 

“Are you serious?” Tyler shrieks when Ryan picks up. She doesn’t need the answer though. The smugness and joy floating down the line makes Tyler feel warm inside. “Ryan.”

“I know,” Ryan replies and Tyler has to blink back her own emotions when she hears Ryan sniffle just a little. “Segs. I’m going to marry them both.”

Tyler has to blow out a breath. “Oh my god. Holy fuck. I’m so fucking happy for you.”

“Happy enough to be maid of honour?”

Tyler stops dead. She’s not even breathing. Maid of honour. Ryan wants her to be part of the wedding party. “Holy fuck.”

Ryan laughs and it’s giddy and joyful and literally everything Tyler had ever hoped for when she’d dragged Ryan around Vegas to find the perfect awards dress. She wipes at a tear as it slides down her face and just barely hears Ryan say, “So that’s a yes?” 

“Fuck Ryan. Of course. I’d be honoured.” She’s blown away, more like. Utterly speechless. She barely stumbles to the couch before collapsing. “Are you sure you want me?”

“Of course I want you.” Tyler can hear the way Ryan’s rolling her eyes. “You got us together, remember?”

“I found you a dress,” Tyler argues. “I didn’t make you get naked.”

“Yeah well, you were instrumental in both. So. Maid of honour.” 

Ryan says it with such decisiveness, like there’s just no other logical answer, that Tyler has to swallow again. “Just me?”

“Dani, I think. She kind of kept me sane when I was out with my shoulder that year.” There’s a pause. “Carey to officiate, hopefully.”

Tyler flops onto her back and kicks her feet into the air. “You’ve actually put thought into this.”

“Yeah, well. I proposed like a month ago, so I’ve had time.” 

Tyler snorts. “Of course you’re the one that proposed. My god, Ryan.” 

“What? It’s not like either of them put up a fight when I asked.” She sounds so smug, which is so unlike her but if anyone has cause to be smug, it’s her.

“God, you were the first ones to get together, the first ones to get married… You’d probably be the first with kids too if it weren’t for Marcia and Dani.” 

“Not for ten years, at least,” Ryan says easily. “We still have hockey to play. And anyway, Dani and Marcia had their wives long before Taylor, Jordan and I figured things out.”

Tyler grins, she can’t help it. “God, Ry. You know I’m so happy for you, right?” Then she gasps and sits up. “Ryan. Dress shopping.”

Ryan laughs and Tyler’s chest clenches. God. God, she’s getting married. Ryan’s getting everything. It’s wonderful. She’s steadfastly ignoring how bittersweet it also feels. “Of course dress shopping! You picked out the first one.”

Tyler sighs. “It was gorgeous.”

“It was,” Ryan agrees.

“A wedding.” And if there’s a little wistfulness in her tone, it’s not something Tyler’s going to acknowledge. 

“Someday your prince will come,” Ryan says and Tyler can hear the singing lilt in her tone.

Tyler looks down at where her shirt has ridden up her stomach, unwilling to tell Ryan that she’s already met her prince. She clears her throat. “I’ll check on dates and places, yeah?”

“Please,” and Ryan sounds utterly relieved. “And not designer, okay? I really don’t want to be spending, like, ten grand on a wedding dress.” 

“Do you trust me or not?” Tyler retorts, but her tongue is in her cheek and she knows Ryan hears it. 

“I trust you.” 

“Good. I’ll let you know.”

“Yeah. And Tyler? I’m so glad you said yes.” 

 

**Carey**

Carey’s covered in pastry flour when her phone rings cheerfully from the living room. 

“It’s Ryan!” PK calls, like he’s halfway across the house and not around a couple of corners. 

Carey rolls her eyes. “Answer it.” 

“Best part of kidline, how can I help you?” A pause. “She’s a little covered in flour.” He wanders into the kitchen with curious eyes and mouths ‘speaker?’ Carey nods. 

“Hey Ryan.” 

“Hi. How’s rehab?”

“I hate my life.” She’s been baking like a crazy person. It does, however, mean that she’s perfected her  _ kouign amman  _ recipe. But still.

“The usual then.”

Carey hums noncommittally. As much as she appreciates Ryan asking, she knows that’s not the point of the call. 

“I have a massive favour to ask. Two actually.”

“I’m listening.”

“So, we’re getting married.”

Carey hums because she knows this. She’s part of the group chat and Tyler can’t shut up about it half the time. PK though, PK doesn’t know and turns a wide-eyed stare on her as he says into the phone, “I’m sorry. I could have sworn I heard you say you were getting married.”

“In July, we think. None of us should be busy then,” Ryan says with a breezy air in her voice. “And we want to do it on your ranch, Carey. With you officiating.”

PK squeaks again and Carey can’t blame him because she’s not sure she’s breathing. “You’re going to have to repeat that.”

Okay, she’s breathing. 

“Hallsy, Ebs and I want to get married. Well, as married as we can be in Canada. So we can’t use a church.” 

Carey shivers. She can’t say she’s a church girl anyway - she thinks she’d get married in a field. Huh. Maybe Ryan’s got a point there. 

“And we want to get married out here. You have a ranch, right?”

“Yeah.” 

“Of course,” PK mutters. Carey sticks her tongue out at him. He loves her horses.

“We were hoping we could use it. Just for a day and no one has to stay-”

“Of course,” Carey says, because there’s no other answer she could possibly give. She hadn’t expected to be quite this involved in Ryan’s wedding. Hosting the bachelorette party, hell yes, and Tyler and Dani have already been in touch with her over that one, but the actual wedding? “Oh my god, Ryan.” 

It’s finally sinking in. Ryan’s getting married.  _ Married _ . Possibly at her ranch. Possibly with Carey playing an actual major role. 

“And you’ll officiate, right? Well, as official as we can anyway. Maybe it’ll be more like a handfasting?”

Carey laughs a little hysterically. PK looks more than a little gobsmacked, still holding her phone out so she can hear and talk, keeping it free of flour. “I don’t know. I don’t care. Of course I’ll do it.” 

“Oh good. We thought about asking Ferknuckle, you know? But I don’t know if I want the team to have to do anything other than enjoy themselves and he’s already got enough on his plate-”

“Ryan,” Carey interrupts with a laugh because PK’s finally gotten a hold of himself and is bouncing on the spot in the middle of her kitchen. This is the man she has chosen to love. Forever, probably. Huh. “Just… tell me what I need to do, okay?”

“As soon as we nail down some of the finer details.” She sighs. “Weddings are hard, Pricey.”

“It’s going to be beautiful,” Carey contradicts. “It’s going to be the best day of your life, Ryan.”

“I know.” She laughs again. “Okay. I have to go tell the guys. And Carey. Thank you. Seriously.” 

“Of course.” She waves at PK to hang up and turns to her dough. She’s spinning back around a moment later when there’s a thump. PK’s on one knee and Carey’s breath catches. “If you propose to me right now, Pernell Karl, I swear to god I will break your wrist.”

PK, the little shit, laughs. “No. Maybe someday, but I’ve got something better.” 

“Scared the shit out of me,” she says, putting a hand to her heart. 

“Carey Price, will you do me the honour of accompanying me to find the most glorious officiant’s dress?”

She bursts out laughing and reaches for him, gets her palms on his cheeks and leaves floury handprints. He stands easily and kisses her sweetly. “If,” she says, “You come to the wedding with me.” 

His eyes crinkle in the corners, her favourite wide grin. “Of course. A trip to Chez Pricey and the horses? How could I say no?” 

She grins into the next kiss and lets him bound away when he’s done. He pauses in the doorway though, turning back to look over his shoulder with a look that stops her dead. 

“Just so we’re clear,” he says. “I will be asking. Someday. Because I love you.” 

It takes her more than a few breaths to get her voice under control enough to say, “Someday.” 

 

**Ryan**

It’s Gaz’s idea and Ryan knows it. 

They don’t exactly kidnap her, but when Ference and Gaz hustle her away after practice, Ryan’s pretty sure it’s not because they have ideas on how to improve her skills. She’s right. 

The store they take her to is huge and bright and holy shit  _ white _ . 

“Wedding dresses?” she asks blankly because she has to be dreaming. There’s no way the majority of her team has dragged her out wedding dress shopping. There’s no way a single salesperson is ready for this many hockey players in a dress store. Hell, she’s not ready to take on this many Oilers in a dress store, even if some of the older, more stable guys are involved.

“Of course!” Yak tosses an arm around her shoulders. “You need a dress.”

“We know none of the women can make it for a while,” Connor says, in that quiet earnest way he’s perfected. “And you can’t take Ebs and Hallsy.”

He’s right. He’s very, very right, because the first woman Ryan trusts to take her out shopping isn’t going to make it for another month and that… low-key freaks Ryan out, actually. But she’s also seen this episode of  _ Say Yes to the Dress _ and she can’t remember it ever turning out pretty. 

An entire damn hockey team, christ. 

Her leg bounces as they’re asked to wait, while the guys mill about and wander. Even the receptionist looks a little… overwhelmed, is really the polite word for it. Ryan tries to give her a sympathetic looks because if anyone knows what these idiots can do, it’s her. 

“Hi there!” The consultant chirps, then stops and does a double-take. Ryan gets that too. “Uh. Wow. Okay.” Her eyes land on Ryan and Ryan wonders if she sees relief there. “My bride?”

_ And how grateful are you _ . But that’s not what she says. “Yes.” 

“Oh good!” She looks embarrassed for a moment and Ryan thinks they’re three for three, because she gets that stutter too. “Okay. Um. What kind of dress are we looking for?”

“I…” And this is the problem. Ryan has no idea what she wants in her wedding dress. Her mouth snaps closed and the consultant starts to look a little worried. “I don’t know.” 

“Okay then. How about a budget?”

“No budget!” Yak says immediately. 

“No,” Ryan retorts. She’s aware Cam and Connor will have their hands full keeping the team from destroying the place, never mind letting a handful of Oilers run amok in a bridal salon. The least she can do is put some limits on what is likely to be a bit of an insane ride. “$7500,” she blurts. 

It gets her a collective groan, but Ryan refuses to change her mind. She’d immediately turned down Dani’s suggestion of a custom gown because she’s not about to spend a ridiculous amount of money on a dress she’s only going to wear once, and on a field at Carey’s ranch at that. 

“We can work with that,” Ference says amicably, despite the rest of the disgruntled noises. 

That’s how Ryan ends up waiting anxiously in a changeroom while a handful of her teammates hunt for what they think is Ryan’s perfect wedding dress. The jittery feeling is so bad she jumps when the knock sounds. 

The consultant pushes in with too much tulle for Ryan to feel distinctly comfortable. She’s not the only one. Connor’s right behind her, good helpful Canadian boy that he is, and doesn’t seem to be carrying any less fabric. He does, at least, have the grace (or the intelligence) to look sheepish. “Talbo and I tried,” he says. “I think we at least kept them on budget?”

Which is how she ends up in a low-cut strapless dress with only a thin layer of lace covering her middle and a skirt that makes her walk like Morticia Addams. Given how widely Yak’s grinning when he catches sight of her, she figures it must be his choice, though Nursey’s face says it could have been his, too. 

“I told you,” Yak pipes up. “Prettiest dress.” 

Actually, the rest of her ‘entourage’ gives the dress a very lukewarm reception.

“Absolutely not,” Ben says, arms crossed, once Ryan has proclaimed the dress ‘okay, I guess’. “That is not a bridal gown! I see that much of you in the locker room.” 

“You see less of Nuge in the locker room,” Nursey points out calmly. “I don’t know. It doesn’t have enough bling.” 

“It’s a beautiful dress!” Yak squawks. 

“It is,” Cam agrees, ever the peacemaker, “But it’s not really you, Nuge.” 

“It does give you boobs though,” Leon offers. It nets him both mild noises of agreement and a chorus of offended sounds. 

“Next,” Connor says firmly. 

Ryan tries on the most sparkling, tulled-skirt monstrosity courtesy of Nursey, and a cap-sleeved princess ballgown that Leon picks out. Ference’s choice is something Ryan associates more with Dani’s taste than her own, a bunch of fabric flowers trailing over her shoulder and across her chest with a skirt the consultant calls ‘asymmetrical’. Ben turns out to be very proud of his choice, a giant ballgown she could hide a Timbit team under with sleeves to her wrist and a neckline that reminds Ryan of t-shirts. They’re nice dresses, she says every time, but none of them are right. None of them are her. 

Cam’s choice is the closest, damn goalie powers. The skirt is simple and starts to fall away around the curve of her hip, dropping softly to the floor. The bodice is strapless and covered in delicate lace and subtle beadwork. 

“It’s a beautiful dress,” is what Connor offers, neutral, like he’s been from the beginning. Ryan a, loves him and b, is going to buy him something very, very nice when this is all over and done with.

Yak’s face looks like he swallowed a lemon, but he’s been pouting since she turned down his choice of dress. “Not perfect.”

“No,” Ference agrees placidly. 

Ryan sighs and offers Connor her phone. “Can you send it to the group chat anyway? It’s the closest we’ve come.” 

_ It’s close, _ Steph sends, echoing Ryan’s thoughts.  _ But not quite… _

_ u need something over ur shoulders _ , Segs types and Ryan can here the decisive tone of her voice.  _ Not fabric tho. Cap sleeves are the devil. _ She completes it with a little purple emoji devil head. 

_ Lace best, _ is Sid’s contribution.

_ Malkin has good taste, _ Marcia agrees, confirming that yes, Geno’s stolen Sid’s phone to comment.  _ I’m with Segs, as much as it pains me to type that. Your shoulders look huge.  _

Ryan’s smiling as she lifts her head and meets the resigned gaze of her consultant. “Not quite.” 

_ strapless isn’t ur thing _ , Jack’s message says when she gets back to the change room. 

_ Did I know your waist was that small? _ Carey inquires. 

_ dude, just stop. We face u in like a month. I gotchu.  _ Segs writes and it makes Ryan grin. 

_ Christ do you even speak English? _ Dani retorts. Segs sends an emoji with its tongue sticking out. 

“I think we’re done for the day,” Ryan says to the consultant who looks both relieved and disappointed. 

The guys aren’t happy they’re leaving without a dress, but Ryan’s not worried.  _ You’re up, Segs _ , she texts back because Tyler’s never failed her. 

_ Beauty _ . 

 

**Steph**

_ My mom keeps asking about a first dance _ , Steph wakes up to in the group chat one day.  _ How the hell do you do a dance with three people?! _

And Steph, well. This is Steph’s bread and butter.  _ Carefully,  _ she responds.  _ Leave it to me. _

Ryan’s answer is immediate.  _ Thanks Steph. Keep in mind that you’re dealing with my two left feet. _

There isn’t even a question of asking Pekka for his help. He actually knows how to dance, unlike many of their teammates, and the thought of wrangling  _ two  _ newbies makes her want to cry.

So Steph bounces over to his stall after morning practice. He grins up at her, amused by her energy. “What can I do for you, Jonesy?”

“Want to help me choreograph a three-person Viennese waltz for Nuge’s wedding?”

His eyebrow arches. “A  _ three-person  _ waltz? I suppose you don’t mean changing partners once or twice.”

Steph shakes her head. Ryan would never go for that. “Nope. Three people, dancing a Viennese waltz. Together.”

“Hmmm.” Pekka rubs his chin thoughtfully as she settles down beside him. “I admit, it would be a challenge.”

“Right?” She takes this as acceptance and glances around the room. “So, who do we pick as the third person? I guess Elly is kind of obvious, because he’s Hallsy’s friend. Filip or Calle would probably be agreeable…”

“Agreeable about what?” Webs asks curiously. Roman and Eky look over too, because their team is nosey as all get-out.

“Finding someone to try a waltzing experiment with me and Jonesy.”

“Ooooh! Ooooh!” Roman’s actually  _ raising  _ his hand. Steph doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You said you’d teach me, but you never have!”

Webs muffles a laugh and shrugs a little helplessly when Pekka sends him a quick  _ look _ . “Well, it looks like you have your volunteer.”

“Volunteer for what?” Elly asks, rubbing a towel through his hair.

She expects him to start howling in protest - something along the lines of Hall being his friend - but Elly just shrugs. “Me, dancing? Nah. Better leave it to Mr. Suave over there.”

“Do we get to watch you guys practice?” Filip pipes up, looking absurdly eager.

“We don’t need a peanut gallery, thanks,” Steph says, wincing at the thought of having an audience. Especially them. They’d heckle. And put stuff on social media. “But we’ll give you a preview once we’ve worked everything out, okay?”

 

Except she finds out that navigating three sets of limbs is infinitely harder than with just two. Even when the dancers have slightly more experience, like her and Pekka. Adding another follower just upsets the whole balance, especially in a closed hold dance like the waltz.

It also turns out that Roman’s not quite the elegant dancer everyone (including Steph) expected him to be. Steph’s feet are still bruised from that first practice and he has a very special talent for finding her feet.

“ _ Schieße! _ ” he swears, his foot clipping Steph’s heel for the umpteenth time. “I’m sorry Jonesy, I think I’m really bad at this. You don’t step on my feet nearly as often.”

She just smirks at him from over her shoulder. “That is because I am an impeccable dancer.” She giggles when he sticks his tongue out at her.

“You need to try and keep the spacing of your steps consistent,” Pekka points out, leading all of them to a halt. “It’s important, both as the leader and the follower. I don’t think we have to resort to footwork patterns for you just yet…” He pauses and thinks it over while Steph cringes at the thought of creating chalk footprints for the patterns. “Why don’t we switch and practice the portion at the end?”

Steph glares at him. It’s difficult enough dancing with Roman while she’s facing Pekka. His hands burn like brands at her waist and shoulder, and she’s always hyper-aware of his presence at her back. It doesn’t help that they’re dancing one of the most romantic dances there is and choreographing it for a wedding.

Apparently she’s just a glutton for punishment.

She heaves a sigh and gives Pekka sad eyes. He has the decency to look slightly apologetic, but Steph knows that she can’t keep putting off the sections of choreography where she dances facing Roman. “Peks is right, that transition is still a little shaky. Roman, you’re going to have to have your arms in the right position once he turns me…”

_ It’s for Ryan,  _ Steph tells herself as she arranges Roman’s arms so that his left hand is poised to take her right, smoothly finishing the spin that Pekka starts and leading straight onto the next. 

She would do anything for Ryan or any of the other women, even if it means waltzing with Roman. Anyway, it could be worse: it could be the rumba.

“Can we try that again?” Roman asks, gently turning her so that she’s facing Pekka once more. “So it’s a spin-” Pekka obligingly spins her and Roman catches her right hand, taking her out of the turn to face him. “-and then into a regular box step?”

“Perfect,” Steph confirms as he leads them both through the step. “No collisions at all!”

“In that case, why don’t I step back and watch you two?” Pekka offers. “It won’t be so different from when the three of us are together and this way I can make sure that Roman’s dancing correctly.”

“It does need to be perfect for the video,” Roman muses while Steph tries to kill Pekka with her eyes. “Hallsy will need to follow what I’m doing, right?”

He has a point. There’s no time to teach the engaged trio in person before the wedding, so Steph has to make an instructional video and do the fine-tuning before the event itself. Pekka could easily dance both male parts, but the whole point of the dance is that there are three participants.

She knows it will be worth it though. She can already picture Ryan, bright and glowing, and the besotted looks on Hall and Eberle’s faces as the three of them sweep around the makeshift dance floor.

“From the box step, then,” Steph decides, stepping back within the circle of Roman’s arms.

 

**Connor**

Connor thinks if he’d known Ryan would rope him into wedding planning while they were both injured he’d probably have played a little less recklessly against the Flyers. Ryan, bless her heart, is driving him absolutely up the wall with all this wedding talk (boutonnieres? Suits? Dresses? Flowers? Photographer? Connor’s head is spinning) and if he has to answer one more question about place settings he’s going to die. 

_ Die, Stromer, _ he types to Dylan.  _ She’s making me choose table settings with her. _

_ …its a plate? _ Dylan texts back.  _ Like…im going to eat with the wrong fork anyway so i dont get it. _

He’s halfway through a response that completely agrees with Stromer when a text from Mitch, of all people, comes in.  _ y r u texting dyls, shes useless. send me pictures asshole. _

Connor seriously considers sending back something horribly rude before he sighs and snaps pictures of the five different place settings -  _ five _ he is never getting married, even if Jack does eventually notice him - to send. 

_ how formal?  _ Mitch sends back.

_ Not very I think.  _ Ryan’s adamant about it being casual. Maybe. Sort of.

_ where is it gonna be? _

_ Why does that matter? _

_ ur useless too. it matters cuz u don’t put fancy plates out if it’s a picnic, davo duh. _

Connor doesn’t know what to do with that. When did Mitch turn into a wedding expert?  _ I think Nuge is asking Price if it can be on her ranch. _

_ ah country chic then got it. _

_ What the fuck is country chic???? _

_ don’t worry mcjesus, I got it. _

It doesn’t take long - Ryan’s still staring at the five options and absently chewing on a nail when Connor’s phone blips.

_ the second one. u said price’s ranch? this is perfect trust me _

Connor considers it. Some rough brown fabric down the center. Square white plates and napkins, and only two forks and two knives on either side, with a small spoon, fork, and knife across the top. Three glasses.  _ Why? _

He can almost hear the eye roll from across the country.  _ burlap makes it rustic, plates are classic but a little different. it’s a good mix _

Connor clears his throat and walks over to Ryan. “I think I like that one,” he says, pointing to the one Mitch chose.

Ryan glances us at him skeptically. “Yeah, why?”

He shrugs. “That burlap keeps it casual because it’s at the ranch, right? And everything is classic.” He tries not to shift his weight and make it obvious that he’s talking out of his ass on this one. Honestly, he’s clueless.

“You’re right,” Ryan decides. “Country but classic.” She snaps a photo and sends it off to Taylor and Jordan.

Thank god. Mitch’s ridiculousness actually came in handy. Connor pulls his phone back out.  _ Thanks buddy. _

_ someone’s gotta keep this wedding from falling apart. _

 

**Sid**

Sid can’t understand how Geno keeps up with all of Ryan’s wedding plans. Sid can’t even keep track of them, caught up in how she’s not putting up points then how amazing they are at doing exactly that. The second half of the season is a whirlwind and yet Geno seems to have a second sense for when Sid gets caught up in wedding talk. 

“Tell Nuge no orange,” he says one day while they’re gearing up for practice. “Terrible wedding colour. Oilers lose too much.” He cocks his head to the side for a moment. “Yellow good colour. Summer.”

She blinks at him for a moment. “How do you even-?”

Geno taps the side of his nose and whoever showed him that movie is going to die. “I’m know all about wedding things.”

Sid glances back down at her phone where Marcia and Dani seem to be arguing over lilies and hydrangeas. Sid had actually been kind of surprised to find Marcia has very, very strong opinions about flowers. “It’s flowers right now.” 

Geno hums for a moment. “Tulip.”

Her fingers hover over her phone for a minute before she writes,  _ Geno says tulips _ . 

_ Tulips are nice _ , comes Dani’s response. 

_ Plenty of colours _ , Marcia agrees. 

_ I like tulips, _ Ryan sends,  _ And not too smelly _ . 

Sid breathes out air she didn’t realize she was holding. She looks up to find Geno grinning smugly, his phone in his hand. “Pick tulips?” he asks. 

“I think so.” 

“I’m best wedding planner.”

It takes Sid a moment, because she almost impulsively asks what his wedding would look like before deciding she just doesn’t want to know. She doesn’t want to think about whether they’re like her plans and whether he sees her as the bride. She huffs instead. “Why do weddings make people insane?” 

“Special,” Geno says immediately, slipping a foot into his skate. “Only do once, yes?”

“Hopefully,” Sid agrees because it’s the twenty-first century and she knows sometimes people don’t do it at all. It’s not even something she consciously thinks about for herself. 

(Subconsciously, Sid’s put a lot of thought into her wedding, what Geno would look like in a tux, whether she’d want to wear a dress or not. But it’s a road that leads to madness and she has more important things to worry about.)

“So. Have to be perfect. Never do again.” 

Sid feels her chest contract. His tone is telling, warm, certain. He has someone in mind. He knows exactly what he wants. His wedding will be perfect. 

“Come with me,” she blurts. 

“To wedding?”

“Yeah.” She ducks her head, inexplicably shy. “We haven’t gotten our invitations yet, but Ryan’s already said all of the women have to be there so-”

“Yes.” 

Her eyes dart up. He’s smiling at her, one skate half way to tied. She gets a flash of asking him an entirely different question, right here, the one thing that has always been totally and inexplicably theirs. 

“Of course I’m come with you.”

“I know you go to Russia-”

“Come back for kidline,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand, though Sid gets that odd sense that it isn’t kidline he’s coming back for at all. “Who else you go with? Tanger?” 

“Go where.”

“No where,” Geno pipes up when Sid’s mouth opens and closes like a fish. “You nosy.” 

“I’m not deaf!” Letang squawks back and tosses a ball of tape at Geno. 

Geno plucks it out of the air and lobs it towards a giggling Lovejoy before turning back to Sid. “I’m go. Need new suit?”

“Probably not? I mean… we don’t have to match do we?”

“Match wedding?” Geno shakes his head. “You tell me what you wear. We pick then.” 

She lets her head fall. “I’m going to have to wear a dress, aren’t I?” 

“Look pretty in dress. Like All Star Game. Like awards.” He nuges her shoulder gently.

Sid feels her cheeks flare hot the way they do when Geno gives her a compliment that has nothing to do with her hockey. “I-”

“Please?” 

God she hates him. “We’ll see.”

But Geno knows when he gets his way, especially when it comes to Sid. He turns immediately to the gaggle of French Canadians. “Flower! Sid get dress for wedding.”

Flower’s eyes bug out of his head and he swears violently in French, yanking out his phone. “No one even knew you were dating and now you’re getting married, you have to tell us these things!”

“No,” Geno says with a roll of his eyes. “Oiler wedding.”

Flower stops scrolling through his phone and blinks. “Oh. Good. No one wants to pay Staal.” 

Sid’s going to ask; she’s going to press and then she’s going to commit murder, but before she can even open her mouth Geno demands, “Pretty dress. Dress Sid like.”

“Geno, I can pick out my own dress.” 

“Can yes.” He even nods along, “Is will, I’m not so sure.” 

“Asshole,” she growls and shoves him. He laughs and catches her up as he sways back towards her, hooking his arm around her neck. She goes, of course, because it’s Geno and he smacks a kiss to her head. 

“Pretty dress for beautiful Sid,” he declares. “Is special wedding day!”

“Not mine,” she grouses and braces herself with a palm on his chest. He stills under her and Sid looks up apprehensively. 

“Not yet.” 

Jesus, he can’t look at her like that. She can’t deal with him looking at her like that. Not while they talk about weddings and dresses (and she can see herself in a dress, something different, long, something that hides her bow legs but shows off the strength of her, that maybe makes her feel like a bride without making her feel like a doll) and certainly not while they’re in the middle of their team. 

Sully interrupts by poking his head in the locker room. “There a reason you’re not on the ice yet?” 

“Geno can’t stop talking about weddings,” Kessel calls out, suited up and ready to go. “His damn biological clock is ticking so loud I want to start nesting.” 

“Please,” Bonino replies. “We all know you won’t be the first Kessel gracing the world with mini-versions of their beauty.”

“Thank god,” Haglin agrees, then shoots Kessel a pitying look. “What is it with your sister getting all the good genes?”

It devolves, as these arguments have a habit of doing, into a war with balls of tape before Sully finally manages to herd them out onto the ice. He spares a glare for both Sid and Geno, still not suited up, and leaves them to it. Sid sighs but Geno just nudges her with his shoulder. 

“Pretty dress now,” he says. “Beautiful dress for your wedding.” 

Sid can’t help the way her breath catches, the way her stomach turns to liquid. “Maybe,” she says, but they both know she means ‘yes’. Sid, for one, knows it’s written all over her face and she can see it in the warmth in his eyes. 

He pats her leg. “Practice now. Maybe day off we go look.”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” Sid groans.

“Not wear dresses! Can’t help being excited.”

“I hate you.”

“Lies.” 

She bites back a smile because it really, really is.

 

**Mike**

She’s not exactly awake as she stumbles to the door, knuckling the sleep out of her eyes. “I’m coming, I’m coming, dammit,” she grumbles at the insistent knocking. “We’re supposed to be sleeping in, honestly, what’s wrong with-”

Mike blinks, then blinks again, certain that she’s hallucinating. But Connor McDavid, Taylor Hall, and Jordan Eberle are definitely still standing in the hallway. “Uh...”

“We come in peace,” Hall says with a wide, happy smile.

“What he means is, we’re here to take you cake tasting with us,” Eberle adds.

“...why?” She knows about the wedding, of course, and knows she’ll be invited, but she and Ryan aren’t the closest and she barely knows the guys who are currently standing in front of her. “And how did you get up here???”

Hall looks completely unimpressed. “Dude. It’s Edmonton, and we’re  _ Oilers. _ ”

That kind of makes sense, though Mike’s not sure she likes the idea of them being able to come up so easily.

Eberle heaves a sigh. “Look, we’re pretty bad at all this wedding stuff and we feel bad that Nuge has been doing most of it herself-” McDavid coughs but is pointedly ignored. “-with a lot of help from you guys. So, we figured it would be nice if there was another female along.”

“Plus, we know you’re not leaving until this afternoon,” Hall adds.

“Please come,” McDavid adds, finally speaking up.

Oh. They all look so hopeful, especially the two grooms and honestly, damn her romantic heart. And it is for Ryan, so... “I require a double-double,” she says, waving them in. “Give me ten.”

Ryan’s waiting at the cake place, fiddling with her phone. “Nuge!” Hall crows. “Look who we brought for you!” He makes a dramatic gesture at Mike like he’s Vanna White.

“Please don’t tell me that they hauled you from your bed.” Ryan looks a little chagrined as she pulls Mike into a quick hug.

“They kind of did,” Mike admits with a shrug. “But they said cake was involved, so.”

“More like ice cream!” Hall is bouncing in place and maybe feeding him this much sugar early on in the day isn’t a great idea, not that Mike can really throw stones.

Ryan looks ready to protest, but Eberle wraps her up in his arms. “Come on, Nuge, you’ve had one of the girls’ opinion on everything so far, why not this?”

“I just don’t want to impose-”

“Not imposing,” Mike cuts in. Now that they’re here, standing in front of a cute little bakery with gorgeous cakes in the window, she’s kind of excited. She’s also kind of honored the guys thought of her. “I want to help.”

And help she does, because the guys are pretty much useless right out the gate. The bakers, a cute couple named Vanessa and Rachel, show them models first, from ice cream cakes that look like actual cakes to arrangements of ice cream cones.

“There are so many!” Hall announces, peering at each one like he’s Sherlock Holmes or something.

“Maybe the ones like cakes?” is Eberle’s opinion, though it comes out more like a question. McDavid just shrugs and takes pictures to send off.

All Mike needs to do is look at the slight twist to Ryan’s lips to know that she’s not impressed. “You want people to know it’s ice cream, right?” she asks, taking a chance and nudging the other woman over to the cone arrangements.

Ryan nods. “I just think it’ll be easier with everything outdoors. No one has to slice anything and people can just come up and grab something if they want it.”

“They’re definitely popular for more casual weddings,” Vanessa chimes in helpfully.

For Ryan, it’s all about casual. Mike notes the way her eyes simply slide over the more elaborately decorated options and subtly directs Hall towards one particular display. “Show her this one.”

“That one?” His eyes light up at the sugar cones. “Yeah, I like it! Nuge, how about this one?” He drags her over and lets Vanessa and Rachel explain how cakes are actually baked into the bottom of the cones, ice cream is scooped over the top, and the entire thing is frozen.

“It will be extremely easy to prepare here and transport over to your venue for assembly,” Rachel reassures her.

Ryan takes in the glass tiers. “Simple,” she murmurs. “And we can decorate it with burlap and green and yellow ribbons?”

“Whatever you want,” is the cheerful response.

Ryan glances over at Mike, who gives her a thumbs-up. McDavid nods and Eberle grins. The other woman smiles back, happy and relieved with the easy pick. “Nice choice, Hallsy. It looks like we have our cake.”

“So...cake and ice cream?” Mike inquires with a cheeky grin.

Halfway through the cake, where there are passionate debates over German chocolate versus bittersweet chocolate, Mike’s phone absolutely lights up.

_ LATTS WHERE RU _

_ LATTS _

_ LATTS HAVE U BEEN KIDNAPPED BY OILERS _

_... _ and other variations. The best is Ovi:  _ helping with kidline wedding? no fair leaving me latts.  _ Honestly. The Russian knitting circle is insane because she’s fairly certain that no one else on the Caps knows about Ryan, Hall, and Eberle.

“Champagne white?” Ryan asks her, polishing off the rest of her sliver of cake.

“Champagne white,” she agrees. The cake is light and buttery, with the faintest hint of champagne and vanilla.

“What do you think about the chocolate cake?”

“German chocolate cake,” she says right away. “You can get bittersweet chocolate ice cream and compromise. Plus it will be good with any of the cake choices.”

Ryan nudges Mike with her shoulder, smiling softly. “I’m glad the guys grabbed you.”

“Me too.” And she means it.

“Ice cream!” Hall cheers as Vanessa and Rachel bring out trays of little dishes.

_ Best morning ever _ , Mike thinks.

 

**Ryan**

Tyler, as she is wont to do, whirls into Edmonton in late January, most of the way through a west coast road trip. Ryan picks her up at the Stars’ hotel. 

“I am fucking exhausted,” is the first thing Tyler says. “And fucking sick of the fucking Canucks.” 

“I’m sure Dani’s glad to hear that.” 

“God, bunch of shits that team.” But then she turns on Ryan with the brightest smile. “Ready?”

Ryan’s laugh is a little hysterical. The wedding hasn’t been chaos, per se just… stressful. She kind of wishes she could get back in the line up, just for a little distraction. “As I’ll ever be, I guess.”

“Do we need to stop for, like, Timmy’s or something? I’ll admit, I don’t go less than Starbucks because America has ruined me for actually good coffee, but I could stoop to a McDonald’s.”

“No,” Ryan says. “I just…the team took me?”

Tyler’s face turns devilishly amused. “Oh, I remember.”

“It was a lot of opinions. At once. I think we terrified the consultant.” Ryan huffs. “It was sweet of them. Hallsy and Ebs were jealous.” 

“I’m siding with the consultant,” Tyler answers, typing into her phone. A moment later, her GPS informs Ryan to take a left in two hundred metres.

Ryan shrugs. “We eliminated princess gowns.”

“Oh Jesus. Of course, no. Body like yours in a princess gown? What were they thinking?” 

“That women want to be princesses on their wedding days,” Ryan answers and takes a right at the GPS’ insistence. 

“I mean, if we were all Steph, sure. I have money with Marcia riding on her doing the full on princess experience. Maybe Sid, if Malkin can convince her into one.” She glances up from her phone, eyes narrowed. “May have to get Fleury and the French dudes in on that. Sid can’t stand up to those assholes very long.”

“Have you planned everyone’s wedding?” 

Tyler snorts. “Jordie would let Jason throw up the 80s if I didn’t have a plan.” She shivers dramatically. “Puffy sleeves, Nuge. Puffy sleeves. Or worse, powder blue tuxes.” 

This, Ryan thinks, is why she wanted Tyler involved. If she weren’t so fucking great at hockey Ryan could see her as some sort of event manager. 

“You though,” and Ryan can feel the way Tyler’s eyes look over her comfortable jeans and tshirt. “Nah. More fitted. I want to try a sheath or something like that quasi mermaid style from the awards. The Dress.”

Ryan chuckles at the eyebrow waggles she can hear in Tyler’s tone. She glances over, chewing on her lip. “Thanks, you know. I haven’t said it yet, but… I’m glad we’re doing this.” 

“Awww! Me too! Even if Hallsy is one of the idiots you’ve chosen.”

“That’s my fiancee you’re talking about,” Ryan says, just to say it. She doesn’t get the opportunity very often. 

“Take a left in five hundred metres. Your destination is on the right.” 

Tyler’s grinning as Ryan turns into the parking lot of a small shop. Ryan looks it over skeptically. “It’s small.”

“You’re never going to find what you want in a huge commercial store,” Tyler tells her seriously, wisely. “Not you. So. Small store.” 

Ryan won’t admit the commercial store the team had taken her to had been terrifying. They’d meant well. “It is less daunting.”

“Uh huh. And even you and I aren’t likely to scare off salespeople in here.” 

The quiet salesperson does, in fact, look a little afraid of the assessing eye Tyler immediately turns on the dresses. Ryan is quite happy to sit back for a moment and watch Tyler go to work. 

“No, princess is out. Have you seen her? Poofy dress, on that body?”

“Not blush. No pink.” A critical eye. “Ivory maybe. Probably not pure white. We’ll have to test and see.” 

“Oh! Sparkle!”

“She will fall out of that dress, I don’t care how small her boobs are.”

It takes half an hour and Ryan wandering aimlessly around before Tyler finally finds her, squeezing her hand. “Ready?”

Ryan sucks in a deep breath. There’s a feeling in her gut that is chewing her up, a little bit warm and excited, but also nervous and terrifying. It’s the same kind of feeling Ryan’s had a million times before (when she gets on the ice and has a lights out game, the moment before she kissed Taylor for the first time, seconds after she blurted out that she wanted to marry them) and feels the smile start to slowly stretch across her face. “Yeah.” 

When Ryan steps into the change room it is a little…overwhelming. There are dresses on every available hook and hangar, different styles, necklines, skirts. Some are lacey, some have rhinestones, some sparkle. She sucks in a deep breath. 

“Better all at once,” Tyler says and Ryan sees her leaning against the doorway. “Just… paw through. See what catches your eye.” She tips her head back for a moment. “Melodie’ll take anything you immediately veto.” Then she pulls her phone out of her back pocket. “And I’ve got the chat already queued up.”

Because Tyler would make sure the girls knew when Ryan was going to try on wedding dresses. 

And Ryan does. She pulls a halter out first, plain, but with a bit of a flared skirt around the bottom. Tyler reaches immediately to lace her into it and Ryan very carefully doesn’t comment on the tightness around the edges of Tyler’s smile. It’s not about Ryan anyway. 

Tyler steps back when the ribbon’s pulled tight and they both look at the dress in the mirror. Tyler keeps her face blank for another moment, before it scrunches. 

Ryan barks out a laugh. “Yeah, no. I can’t…” She tries walking but has to waddle a little and Tyler giggles. 

“Mermaid’s out. I figured. You didn’t look too happy with the one the guys had you in either.” She bustles around the room for a minute, yanks a bunch of dresses off the hooks and shoves them out the door. “Next!”

Jack vetoes the fit-and-flare style when Tyler sends pictures to the group, and she agrees with Dani when the latter points out that the halter neckline isn’t really ‘wedding’. Even what Tyler calls a trumpet style doesn’t really sit well with Ryan or the Girl Brigade as a whole and Tyler bustles off another handful of dresses. 

That’s when Ryan sees it. 

It’s covered in lace. Head to toe lace, really, though the dress has no sleeves. The neckline will curve around her breasts - sweetheart neckline, her brain provides dazedly - but the lace continues up and turns the neckline into some illusion of the neckline of most of Ryan’s favourite t-shirts. Her hand is maybe a little reverent when she reaches for the dress and runs her fingers along the lace. She looks back over her shoulder at Tyler and sees the little knowing smile on her face. 

“Reminded me of Vegas,” she says. 

Ryan nods. It reminds her of Vegas too, a much plainer white dress with the same little train. “Help?”

It’s surprisingly quick work to zip her into, though both she and Tyler are careful about the lace. It covers her back too, though the actual fabric of the dress dips low to the bottom of her spine. It  _ is _ the Vegas dress, for all intents and purposes, but the lace gives it a more delicate feel, something a little more ‘wedding’. Ryan gasps when she looks up at herself in the mirror. 

“Segs.” 

Tyler has tears in her eyes and her phone up. Ryan knows she’s smiling, big and in love as she looks at herself in the mirror. It takes a split second for Tyler’s phone to blow up and when Tyler laughs, it’s a little watery. 

“God, even Marcia likes it,” Tyler says, thumbs moving at breakneck speed. She sniffles and looks up, and Ryan knows her face doesn’t look much better. “What do you think?” 

Ryan’s laugh is no less watery than Tyler’s, and she twists her hips this way and that, just to watch the lace move across the skirt. “Tyler.”

It’s awkward with Ryan on the pedestal, but Tyler wraps her arms tight around Ryan’s middle for a moment, and squeezes. “You’re a bride, Ryan.” 

Ryan’s breath shakes out. It’s not nerves because other than hockey, marrying both Taylor and Jordan is the only thing in life she’s been completely sure about. That doesn’t mean that the sight of her in a wedding dress, a gorgeous, lace-covered wedding dress, doesn’t make her heart clench. “I’m getting married.”

Tyler laughs, and it sounds so much happier, if still watery. “Fuck yeah you are. And you’re going to knock their socks off.” She reaches for Ryan’s hair and tugs it back into a bun, looping an elastic around it. “Stick a veil right in there. Not long. But…”

“Yeah,” Ryan breathes. It’s the realest the wedding has felt to her in the entire time she’s been planning, the first piece of her forever after she can actually see in all its glory. “Tyler.” 

Tyler laughs again. “Yeah. I think we’ve found it.” 

 

**Dylan**

In the end, Dylan swallows her feelings of hurt and disappointment and flies out to Red Deer to watch the Memorial Cup final. She can do this for Mitch, who didn’t say a word when her face had crumpled on the ice, just tossed an arm around her neck and yanked her right in. He showed up later with serious eyes and cheap booze and let her cry on his shoulder, and didn’t say a damn thing.

The joy on his face when he turns to look for her with the cup in his hands is absolutely worth it and despite the pain of losing in Ontario, she can admit, at least to herself, that she is the proudest when he tops it off with the MVP trophy.

The next morning Mitch is snoring away beside her, mouth open and drooling a little. He looks so dumb and he’s going to have the worst hangover. She can’t wait to chirp him about it.

Her phone buzzes with a message from Jack.  _ segs is being a pain in the ass and wants more opinions on the bridesmaids dresses. im adding u to the group chat _

_ wtf?  _ Dylan texts back.  _ i was in the o this season. we dont even kno if ill be up next year! _

_ like that matters _

Her phone buzzes again with a new text. When she opens it up there are pictures - one of Dani and one of Tyler, both of them in long, flowy dresses and followed by too many responses for Dylan to keep track of.

Not long after that, she gets a panicky text from Trixie.  _ Stromer, Eichs just texted me and now there are photos of Danielle Sedin and Tyler Seguin on my phone. WHAT IS HAPPENING?!?!?!?!  _

There are about a million crying emojis after it. Dylan sends a laughing/crying emoji, then a panda.  _ dunno but if they want my opinion they r shit out of luck. _

Trixie sends back laughing faces. Meanwhile, everyone’s still weighing in and she finds out very quickly that Steph, Mal, Jack, and Marcia have very strong opinions on dresses. Mal probably isn’t so surprising, and Dylan knows from experience what it’s like dress shopping with Jack. The first two dresses are quickly discarded.

The next photo is of Tyler, tattoos on display in a pale yellow dress. It cuts off between mid-thigh and her knee and ties around her neck in some sort of floaty fabric. 

_ Nice but your boobs look huge and there’s no way Dani’s agreeing to that hemline _ , Jordie says.

_ u know what a hemline is?  _ Tyler fires back.

_ Jordie’s right, I don’t. _

_ Screw you Segs. _

“‘Zat wedding stuff?” She looks over to see Mitch blinking at her with bloodshot eyes, his hair sticking up in tufts every which way. God he still looks so tired, but so elated at the same time. 

“Yeah,” she says, tilting her phone so that he has a better view. “Bridesmaids dresses. I don’t know why they’re asking me.”

“Give it.”

She squawks, but is too slow in trying to roll away. Mitch’s eyes narrow on her tiny phone screen. He snorts and tosses it back, curling into her hip. “S’a party dress, not a bridesmaids dress. Nuge is too classy for that.” 

Dylan eyes him for a moment, takes in the warmth of his arm tossed across her lap and slowly types out his evaluation. 

“You better tell them it’s from me. I’m sick of getting no credit for the amount of shit I’m helping out with. God.”

_ I knew it,  _ Ryan writes.  _ He’s the one who’s been telling Davo what to choose, right? He was so talking out of his ass. Tell Marner thank you. _

Mitch is preening over that message. Dylan rolls her eyes and nudges his head gently, aware that he’s still fairly hungover. “Don’t get a big head. Just because you helped with the place settings-”

“And the place cards, the boutonnieres, the sundae station-”

“Sundae station?”

He rolls his eyes at her. “Everyone knows how obsessive Hall and Eberle are about their Dairy Queen. Of course their wedding has to have something with ice cream. I even suggested the ice cream cake.”

“You can do that?” She has a hard time picturing it, and imagines a cake slowly oozing down the table in the summer heat.

“Stromer. For weddings you can do almost anything. Now, what’s going on with the dresses?”

A few more dresses are discarded for being  _ too  _ plain, which Dylan doesn’t understand at all. “Come on Stromer, the bridesmaids aren’t supposed to overshadow the bride, but it doesn’t mean they should fade into the background, either!” Mitch is sitting up now, sipping at Gatorade and eating some plain toast. “Look, Nuge has a lace dress, right? Tell them to look at lace.”

“I’m living in the Twilight Zone,” she grumbles, but complies.

_ Good idea,  _ Dani says.  _ And I think I have the perfect one. _

The next photo that pops up is Tyler, and Dylan sucks in a breath. “Let me see!” Mitch squawks in her ear, his hand reaching into her field of vision. He lets out a low whistle.

The dress is long and flowing, with a sweetheart neckline that curves low, but not too low. Lace swirls in cap sleeves over the arms and back, somehow blending with and not competing with Tyler’s tattoos. It goes without saying that it will look absolutely amazing on Dani, as well.

_ marns is speechless _ , Dylan types out.  _ so i think we have a winner. _

_ Tyler, you look beautiful!  _

_ that’s definitely the one. _

She puts her phone away and glances at Mitch, who is proudly smirking. “How are you so good at this?”

“Stromer, I’m good at a lot of things.” He leers at her, wiggling his eyebrows.

Dylan throws a pillow at his face.

 

**Taylor/Jordan**

After the fifth jewelry store, Jordan’s had enough. They’ve looked at thick wedding bands, thin wedding bands, ones with gemstones and without, from platinum to rose gold and yet nothing comes even close to perfect.

Well, he thinks they’ve come pretty close with the braided bands he’s seen, but they were either silver and gold or platinum and gold. And they can’t simply get three matching bands because he knows Ryan’s taste and she’ll want something a little bit more delicate than anything he and Taylor pick.

“What if we designed them ourselves?” Taylor asks curiously. “Are there places we can go?”

Jordan stops short because that is brilliant. If they weren’t standing right in the middle of downtown Edmonton, he’d kiss him. He settles for reaching out to squeeze his hand, letting the promise curl around his grin. Taylor’s eyes heat in response, but all he does is squeeze back. “You’re a genius, Hallsy. Let’s go.”

Fernuckle recommends a jewelry designer, an older man named Abraham who listens patiently while he and Taylor rattle off the ideas that they like. “Something braided, but it has to be three kinds of metals, not two,” Jordan says. “They need to be distinct.”

“And not rose gold,” Taylor adds. “We don’t really like how it looks with silver and regular gold.”

“What about tungsten?” Abraham asks after a moment’s thought. “It’s black, so it will be a nice contrast with silver and a paler gold.”

The two of them exchange looks. They’ve never heard of tungsten before. “Can we see what it looks like?”

The guy waves them over to a display case and pulls out three separate bands, holding them together for inspection. He’s right - the black metal is shiny and has depth to it, contrasting perfectly against the bright silver and gold. “Nuge would love it,” he says.

“That’s what we want,” Taylor agrees, looking at the three together with awe. “The tungsten, the silver, and the gold.”

Abraham nods. “All right then. So let’s talk about the design.”

He walks them through several braids and both Taylor and Jordan decide that they prefer the bands that look braided, or are actually braided, rather than the braided designs with borders.

It’s easy enough to find a design for the two of them. Their band has thicker strands, almost like a basket weave. They’re not completely identical, of course. Thanks to their experience braiding Nuge’s hair, Taylor opts for a Dutch-style weave, while Jordan goes for the basic three-strand weave.

There’s a lot of debate over how to actually go about Ryan’s band. They both know they want it to be hand-woven, but the number of patterns available to them are staggering, from simple braids to elaborate Celtic knots.

“Nothing too elaborate,” Jordan says after rejecting the Celtic knots. “Nuge needs something simple, but elegant.”

Abraham’s face brightens. “What about this?” he asks, quickly sketching out a design on the pad in front of him. It’s six strands, not three, curling and wrapping around each other like waves. “First I would loosely twist together two strands of each metal, then begin wrapping the three around like so-”

When Jordan looks at it, he sees the three of them. Together. Entwined. As it should be. “It’s perfect,” he blurts out, then glances over at Taylor. Taylor’s eyes are wide and a little shiny as he looks down at the sketch, and when he looks up Jordan knows that he feels the exact same way.

“Perfect,” Taylor agrees softly. “I think we have our rings.”

 

**Jack**

Jack trusts Tyler. So much, by nature of the way Tyler’s kind of taken Jack under her wing. So when Tyler had suggested ‘glamping’ for Ryan’s bachelorette, Jack had figured it couldn’t be that bad. 

But Tyler had forgotten to mention that there would be horses involved. Horses are not wild animals, but damn are they close enough. Carey assured her that this one was old and docile, but Jack’s still not convinced that she’s not going to get thrown off at some point. She doesn’t even mind that the horse sometimes decides to turn in lazy circles rather than just plowing ahead like some of the other ones. At least she has a chance to do something if it’s going slowly.

Brenda comes up beside her, looking for all the world like she was born with her ass glued to the saddle. “Almost there, Eichs!” she says cheerfully. Honestly, Brenda does everything cheerfully. Jack doesn’t understand it.

“Thank god,” she mumbles, wincing at a twinge of soreness. “This is not my thing.”

“The things we do for one another,” Brenda says sympathetically. “It’s wild that Ryan’s getting married. It just seems like something so far off, right?”

“Definitely,” Jack agrees. She’s only nineteen, for crying out loud. “Still a lot of hockey to play before I even think about it. Or even find someone I  _ want _ to think about it with.”

Brenda nods. “For sure.” Which is odd, considering…

“Aren’t you here with Galchenyuk?” Every time she’s seen them, they’re connected at the hip and acting...well, pretty couple-y.

She makes a horrified face. “Me? And Chucky? Come on, Eichs. It’s just friends with benefits.” But her expression flickers slightly, like something Jack said struck a nerve. That was kind of what she was aiming for, because who brings a fuckbuddy as a wedding date? Brenda clears her throat and quickly changes the subject. “Anyway, come on, you don’t want to miss Ryan’s face.” She nods to the clearing where they’re tethering up their horses for the night.

“-there’s a really nice lake just through the trees there,” Carey’s saying as Jack finishes. “It’s one of my favorite places.”

Ryan’s jaw drops and her eyes widen when they step into the clearing. Everyone else does too, except for Tyler and Carey, who oversaw everything. Large white tents decorated with colorful strips of fabric ring a stone fire pit, their flaps open to reveal rug-covered floors and cozy mattresses. The centermost tent facing the lake has a full dining table and chairs, and there are big fat candles and pretty lanterns absolutely everywhere. Tyler has outdone herself.

“What-” Ryan gasps. “What is this?”

“Welcome to your hen night,” Tyler proclaims, beaming. “Just you and your closest girlfriends, camping in style in one of the prettiest places on Earth.”

It really, really is. Their clearing is set right on a stone beach, and all you can see is clear blue water, trees, and off in the distance, mountains. Jack might be a staunch city girl, but even she can see the beauty here.

Ryan’s eyes fill with tears. “You guys.”

She glows, Jack thinks as the evening stretches on. The more cynical part of her could attribute it to the firelight flickering on her face as they all settle around the bonfire. Or the flush from when she flops back into her chair later on, after Tyler somehow coaxes all of them into a dance party. Or sheer delight, because somehow Dani and Carey manage to cook them all a five-star meal using only the bonfire.

But Jack knows better. Ryan’s happy, truly happy. She’s found her people and she wants to spend the rest of her life with them. It’s something Jack’s thought about in an abstract way because she definitely wants a family. She especially wants kids, tiny little tykes losing their balance on the ice and clumsily learning how to shoot the puck.

The other half of that equation? Not so much. She’s young and she still has a hell of a lot of hockey to play. Jack just figures it’ll come eventually.

But her earlier conversation with Brenda comes to the surface, bringing with it the idea of Connor McDavid and his capital T thing for her. She knows this from Noah, Dylan, and hell, the man himself and it still freaks her out. It’s not like she’s considering him - unlike Brenda and her rather obvious feelings for Galchenyuk, her thing with Connor is most certainly friends with benefits. No, she’s definitely not considering him, but she can’t deny that he keeps popping up like a whack-a-mole. 

Or maybe Connor’s just a difficult man to ignore. He’s already here on Carey’s property because he’s somehow been dragged into wedding planning alongside Tyler and Dani. They’ve talked in passing, but she’s been more than happy to let Dylan get between them.

Maybe if things were different. Maybe if they were in different draft years or hell, hadn’t gone number one and number two. She has to admit that he’s not that bad - super earnest but with a dry sense of humor that she likes. And well, he definitely has skills in bed.

She shakes her head. She has to be going crazy with all this wedding stuff. The fact of the matter is, Connor is her rival. There’s nothing for them but that.

Tyler shoves a beer into her hand. “Drink up, Jack. The night is just getting started!”

She falls asleep tangled up with Dylan, Steph, and Mike, and wakes up to Carey frying bacon over the fire. “Coffee?” she mumbles hopefully, blinking at the sunlight.

“Just the instant stuff here, unfortunately,” Carey replies, pointing to a pot.

Jack shrugs. “Close enough.” She nurses her mug as the other women stumble out of the tents, from the disgustingly bright-eyed (Steph) to the walking dead (hilariously enough, Mal). The morning is still cool enough for them all to snuggle around the fire, sipping coffee, crunching on bacon, and spooning up yogurt parfaits that Dani magicked up from nowhere.

She’s almost reluctant to leave, turning over her shoulder for one last glimpse of the sun sparkling over the lake before the view is obscured by the trees.

Some of the guys are waiting for them when they arrive back at the stables, Connor amongst them. “Hey,” he greets her, taking the reins and leading her horse back to its stall. “Did you have a good night?”

“Camping’s not so bad when it’s glamping, I guess,” she drawls, slithering off the horse’s back.

“Yeah?” There’s an amused glint in his eyes as he looks at her from the other side of the horse. “Even with all the wild animals?”

Honestly, he’s  _ such  _ a little shit. “The lake’s not so bad.”

Connor hands her a currycomb. “You should come fishing with me, then.”

The urge to run away is overwhelming. Jack casts her eyes to the ceiling, then off to the side. She’s piecing together a neutral answer when her gaze falls on Les Gallys. Galchenyuk is feeding the horse apple slices like he’s afraid it will take his hand off at any moment (a valid concern, in Jack’s opinion). Brenda’s brushing down the horse and beaming at him so brightly Jack wishes she was still wearing her sunglasses.

No, she and Connor are not like them at all. The thought makes her relax. She can go fishing with a friend, right? “Not this summer, bud, but definitely sometime,” she responds easily.

Connor grins at her, and Jack ignores the fact that it’s every bit as bright as Brenda’s.

 

**Mal**

The morning dawns bright and clear. Mal’s glad for it, because while they have tents ready to go and plenty of strong volunteers to put them up, they’d rather keep them for the reception.

Tyler kicks out anyone who isn’t Ryan’s mom or GB from the entire second floor of Carey’s house. “Girls only!” she shouts, shoving a laughing PK towards the stairs. “Tend to the grooms!”

Dani already has Ryan at the vanity and is carefully working on her updo, a loose curling bun. Carey is setting out the tray of bellinis (both alcoholic and non-alcoholic), before being called over to help Ryan’s mom with  _ her _ hair.

“Mal!” Jack thunders up the stairs with Dylan Strome, both of them with their hair up in towels. “Can you please work your magic on my hair again? I swear, I never get it right when I try to recreate what you did in Nashville.”

“It’s just hair,” Dylan murmurs, looking around at the controlled chaos with trepidation.

Jack points a finger at her. “You’re getting yours done, too.”

Mal just laughs and herds them into a clear patch of space. “Let’s do this.”

It’s organized chaos, full of laughter, chirping, oooohs and aaaahs. Tyler and Carey keep ducking out for one reason or another, until Dani snags Tyler and forces her into a chair (“I swear to god woman, _ sit still _ ”). Both Marcia and Lindsay are helping Sid with her whole shebang and because it’s Ryan’s day, Sid’s protests are token at best.

“Stop  _ wiggling _ , Gally!” she hears Steph cry. “You’re going to ruin your manicure!”

“Lost cause, you should have stuck to clear polish,” Carey calls, moving over to help Jordie, who is swearing at her reflection as she tries to tug up the zipper on her dress.

Brenda sighs dramatically. “Why does it take forever to paint nails?”

“Don’t make me sit on you,” Mike threatens.

An hour later, everyone’s ready. Dani and Tyler are exquisite in their sunshine yellow lace bridesmaid dresses. “Though I suppose we should thank Marner for suggesting lace in the first place,” Dani laughs as she does a little twirl, letting the skirt flare out.

Dylan groans. “Please don’t ever tell him. His head will explode.”

Everyone looks gorgeous, Mal thinks. It’s like being in a butterfly garden, each person bright and unique.

But of course, the most beautiful is Ryan. She steps out of the bathroom, her mother just behind her, both of them beaming and a little red-eyed.

All conversation dies. There are no words for the way Ryan looks. Of course her hair and makeup are perfect, and the dress beyond beautiful. But it’s the entire package and the look of absolute joy on her face that make it something more.

Dani is the first to break the spell, coming to Ryan with both hands outstretched. “You are the most beautiful bride,  _ käraste _ .”

Tyler bursts into tears and suddenly everyone’s pressing in towards Ryan, with hugs going around and some crying. It’s a good thing Tyler insisted on waterproof makeup and setting spray.

“Thanks guys,” Ryan murmurs, dabbing at her eyes. “None of this would have happened without you. I’m so, so glad you’re here.”

“As if we would be anywhere else,” Tyler hiccups, pulling Ryan into a careful, but meaningful hug. “Now those of you not in the wedding party, start herding everyone towards the seats. Carey-”

“I’m going, I’m going,” she replies good-naturedly. She finds Ryan’s dad and directs him up the stairs so the family is ready to escort her out.

Outside, Tyler’s little army has done amazing work with Carey’s backyard, and Mal says so as they cross into the sunshine.

“Ryan said it didn’t need much to spruce it up, and that nature is more than enough.” Carey grins. “I agree.”

Mal does, too. Most of Carey’s backyard has been allowed to grow freely, beyond the sections kept trim for the ceremony and reception. The rest of it is covered in tall grasses and wildflowers and they look absolutely beautiful in the summer sun. The only decoration is the place where Ryan, Jordan, and Taylor will say their vows, marked by a rough-hewn wooden arch strewn with yellow roses and green ivy.

PK bounds up to them, subtly matching with Carey in his cream linen suit. “My favorite ladies!” he proclaims, but his eyes are all for Carey. Not that Mal minds. PK’s a romantic and she figures it’s only a matter of time before he pops the question himself. And lord, won’t that be a wedding to remember.

She follows after them, humming, “Love is in the Air.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Ryan's gown](http://www.confettidaydreams.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Lace-Back-Wedding-Dresses-041.jpg).  
> [Bridesmaid dresses](http://d1nr5wevwcuzuv.cloudfront.net/product_photos/38039769/Hot-Sale-Sweetheart-Long-Dark-Navy-Lace-Cap-Sleeve-Bridesmaid-Dresses-2014-Sexy-Backless-Floor-Length.jpg_640x640_original.jpg).  
> [Ryan's wedding band](http://www.handwovenbands.com/Resources/tri-color-six-strand-open-weave-ring.jpeg).  
> [Jordan and Taylor's wedding bands](http://applesofgold.com/Merchant2/graphics/wedding/WBR-3C.jpg).
> 
> Decor references: [table](https://mydarlingflowers.files.wordpress.com/2015/01/20150124-153542-56142172.jpg?w=620) / [wedding arch](https://d1zpvjny0s6omk.cloudfront.net/media/fileupload/2015/08/05/03_Lee-Gardiner_Braedon%20Photography.jpg)/ [glamping tents](http://mytrueblu.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/glamping-tent.jpg) / [ice cream bar](http://www.modernwedding.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2014/03/05/Wedding-ice-cream-bar.jpg) / [ice cream cake](http://bridalguide.com/sites/default/files/blog-images/bridal-buzz/ice-cream-details/southern-light-photography.jpg)


End file.
